Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
George’s heart pinched hard in his chest. The man who’d left Emi to die in the Pacific Ocean had her daughter. The woman was obviously distraught and desperate to get her back. Until he knew more, he couldn’t begin to help her.
He stayed with Emi, stroking her hair but not touching her anywhere else.
Based on the bruises all over her body, she’d been badly abused by this guy, Fallon.
Anger burned deep in George’s gut. Any man who hurt a woman wasn’t a man at all. He was a coward and the lowest form of life in the world. Guys like that didn’t deserve to live.
“You still with me?” he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb her if she’d fallen asleep. She needed rest after what she’d endured.
She gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“I have soup on the stove. I’m going to get a bowl for you.” He straightened. As he started to turn, she opened her eyes.
A frown dented her forehead. “You’re not like Fallon’s other men.”
“Because I’m not one of this Fallon guy’s men,” George said. “Who is Fallon?”
Her lips pressed together in a tight line before she answered, “Fallon Vance.”
“What is he to you?” George asked. “Husband? Boyfriend? Ex?”
“None of those.” She turned her gaze toward the open door. “You won’t tell him...” she faltered, “will you?”
George frowned. “Tell him what?”
“That I’m alive,” she finished.
He shook his head. “You made me promise not to.”
Her brow furrowed, and she looked back at him. “I did? When?”
“After I pulled you out of the water and before you passed out.” He stared into her eyes. “I keep my promises.” George held up a finger. “I need to know more if I’m to help you, but first, let’s get some food into you.”
She gave him a weak smile. “Thank you.”
He hurried out of the bedroom, his thoughts pouring over what little she’d said. He would have continued questioning her, but she needed food and liquid. All she’d had since he’d pulled her out of the ocean was a few sips of water.
What she needed was a hospital, a doctor to check her over and an IV to push fluid and nutrients back into her body. George had no idea how long she’d been out there. It was one of the many questions he wanted to ask.
With a ladle, he loaded two bowls with the chicken soup he’d made from the rotisserie chicken and vegetables he’d picked up at the local market. Placing the two bowls onto a tray, he grabbed a bottle of water and an energy drink full of electrolytes from the refrigerator and carried everything into the bedroom.
He'd been gone maybe five or six minutes, but he worried that any time away from the woman was too long. She needed so much more than chicken soup. What other kind of damage could nearly drowning inflict on her body, along with the bruises? Did she have internal injuries?
She lay still, her face pale, drying hair splayed out on the white pillowcase, a deep shade of auburn.
Once again, he held his breath and waited for her chest's reassuring rise and fall before he crossed to the side of the bed.
“Hey,” he said softly.
Her eyelids fluttered open.
“Hungry?”
She nodded.
When she tried to sit up, she fell back against the mattress.
George set the tray on the nightstand and then moved toward her. “I can help you sit up, but it means I have to touch you.”
Her brow pinched. She looked up at his face for a long, quiet moment.
Her stomach rumbled loudly, breaking the silence. She gave a tight nod.
“It’s not like I haven’t touched you,” he spoke softly as he wrapped his arms around her body and leaned her up into a seated position. “I did drag you out of the ocean, and I carried you to this cabin.”
“And picked me up off the floor,” she said, her breath warm and soft against his cheek.
His face heated, warmth from where her breath brushed his face spread through his body, heading south. Holding her up with one hand, he fluffed the pillows behind her and eased her back against them.
As soon as he had her positioned and she could hold herself up, he stepped back and tipped his head toward the tray.
“Are you up to holding a spoon and a cup of soup?”
She nodded. “I think so.”
His brow wrinkled. “Tell you what, let me pull a chair close, and we can have dinner together. That is if you don’t mind some company.”
George pulled the chair from the corner of the room and positioned it beside the bed. He sat on the edge of the seat, lifted a bowl of the soup from the tray and smiled. “It’s not special or anything, but it tastes almost as good as Grandma Lois’s.”
He draped a cloth napkin over her lap with a flourish that would make a ma?tre de proud. Then he held out a bowl.
Emi raised her hands to take it.
George laid the bowl gently into her palms, not quite ready to let go.
The bowl sank to her lap, her fingers shaking so much he had to take it back or risk sloshing soup all over his patient and the bed.
A frown pressed her auburn brows downward. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“No worries,” he said. “It’s never easy to eat in bed. Let me.”
He took back the bowl, scooped up a spoonful of soup, and, with a hand beneath it, carried it to her lips.
She opened her mouth, allowing him to pour the soup inside. As she swallowed, her eyes closed, and a moan rose from her throat.
George chuckled. “Is that a good moan or a bad moan?”
“Good.” She opened her eyes. “Thank your Grandma Lois,” she said.
He followed the first spoon with a second. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”
The second spoonful elicited the same response, making George glad he’d stopped at the grocery store the day before for the ingredients. He’d been tired of fast food. Maybe he was missing Grandma Lois. A pot of chicken soup was the comfort food he hadn’t known he needed until he’d taken the time to fix it.
A glance at the bedraggled woman barely holding herself up against the pillows let him know his choice of a meal was right.
He didn’t talk, just spooned soup into her mouth until she’d consumed half the bowl, and her eyelids sank.
He set her bowl on the tray and started to rise.
Emi reached out and touched his arm. “You haven’t eaten.”
“You need to rest,” he said. “I can eat in the other room.”
“Please...stay,” she said in a whisper. “I’m awake, just resting my eyes.”
He snorted softly. “Right.”
“Thank you for the soup. I’m feeling better. I have to.” She sighed. “I need to get to Sara before...”
“Do you think he’ll harm her?” George asked.
“I know he will,” Emi said, her voice a little stronger. “If she’s not of any use to him, he’ll get rid of her, like anyone else he comes in contact with.” She opened her eyes. “I have to get to her.” She sat up straighter and tried to shove the sheet and blanket aside. Her legs tangled, and she fell back against the pillows. “What’s wrong with me? I don’t have time to be weak. Sara needs me to be strong.”
George laid a hand on her arm and pulled it back quickly. “You nearly died out there.” He leaned closer. “You’re in no condition to go after anyone.”
Emi shook her head, a frown ceasing her brow. “But I’m all she has. Fallon talked about getting rid of her when he knocked me off the boat.”
“If your child is in danger, shouldn’t we call the police?” he asked
“No,” she said sharply. “He can’t know I’m alive. There’s no telling what he’ll do to Sara if he thinks I’m dead. If he knows I’m alive, he’ll use her to hurt me, to keep me silent about his compound or to get me back.”
George held up his hands. “Okay. No cops. Besides, I made a promise. I won’t tell anyone you’re alive unless you give me permission.”
Her frown slowly eased. “Thank you.”
“If you’re not willing to go to the police, at least let me help you,” he said, his resolve strengthening.
Her green-eyed gaze met his. “Why would you do that?”
He smiled. “It’s what I do. I work for an agency called Brotherhood Protectors. We help people who need help.”
“How so?”
“Most of us are prior military special operations, like me. I was part of Marine Force Recon. Others on my team were Navy SEALs, Delta Force or Army Rangers. Sometimes, we operate as bodyguards, protecting people in dangerous situations. We have technical support and can search for people or information that will help our clients. We can also conduct extraction missions like we did on active duty, freeing captives held hostage.”
Emi’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”
He nodded. “My team is highly trained and experienced in combat and extraction missions where we had to sneak into enemy-held territory to retrieve individuals.”
“You can’t tell anyone I’m alive.” Emi’s body tensed. “Fallon has people everywhere. He’ll find out.” She looked toward the door. “He might already know where I am.”
“This cabin is on a secluded beach. No one has access to it other than the owner of the cottage and his guests. I’m the only guest. The owner is in California, and no one saw me carry you in.”
“I need to go,” she said, trying again to kick the blanket off. “Sara’s in danger.”
George shook his head. “You’ll be of little help to her in your current state. But I can help you.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “It doesn’t appear like I have much of a choice.”
His lips twisted. “Better than no choice at all.” He pushed to his feet. “I’ll need as much information as you can give me.”
“Like what?” Emi asked.
“Like, where is Fallon holding Sara?
“In his compound,” Emi said.
“Where is the compound?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
George shot a glance toward Emi. “You don’t know?”
“No.” She twisted the bedsheet. “He never let me out of the compound unless he took me out on his yacht, and none of his staff talked about where we were.” She shrugged. “For that matter, I don’t know where I am now. I was unconscious when I arrived here. I was unconscious when I arrived at his compound.”
George didn’t like the sound of that at all. “You’re on Kauai now.”
She sighed. “Kauai. No one was allowed to speak to me. If I asked questions, they couldn’t answer them. Even Maria, who helped me with Sara, couldn’t talk to me. I know she spoke to Sara when I wasn’t around. Sara learned some Spanish from her. Maria did what she could by bringing Sara a doll fashioned out of scraps of fabric. She also brought us paper and pencils so that I could work with Sara, teaching her a little about reading and writing.”
“How long ago was it that you were taken?”
“Roughly eight years.” Her voice was flat and unemotional, stating the facts.
Holy shit.
George fought back bile roiling in his belly.
Emi told him she’d been with college friends on spring break in Honolulu when she’d left a bar to walk back to their hotel.
“One minute, I was on the sidewalk; the next minute, I woke with a headache in a strange man’s compound.” She shook her head. “He told me that he owned me. If I wanted to live, I had to do everything he told me. No argument.” She looked away, lost in her memories. “I told him to go to hell and that he couldn’t keep me hostage. He wouldn’t get away with it.” Her lips twisted. “He gave me a black eye and broke two of my ribs.”
George reached for her hand out of reflex, his heart twisting. She didn’t pull hers free. Instead, she curled her fingers around his.
“I learned to shut up and do what he said. It hurt less,” her voice faded. “I held onto the hope that someone would find me and free me in a day or two. I just had to hold out, do what he said and survive.” She glanced down at her hands. “A few days turned into weeks.”
George didn’t comment. This was her story to tell.
Emi had been held captive for eight years with no one to help.
“I tried to escape twice. I never got very far. His men brought me back. The first time, he beat me, took my clothes and locked me in a dark room in the basement for three days. The second time I tried to leave the compound, he was so mad he nearly killed me. It took me weeks to recover. That’s when I learned I was pregnant.”
Emi wouldn’t meet George’s eyes.
“Sara was a product of Fallon’s violence toward me. I hated him for what he’d done and continued to do to me. But it wasn’t my baby’s fault her father was a monster. I marched Fallon’s very narrow line throughout the pregnancy to keep him from getting angry and hitting me. I was afraid he’d hurt the baby.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “He still found reasons to smack me around.”
George swore.
“Thankfully, he stayed away a lot more. I think he was disgusted by how fat I was. He wasn’t there when I went into labor.” Her lips thinned. “I’m not sure he would’ve let me keep her had he been there during the birth.”
“What would he have done with her?” George asked, though he suspected the answer.
Emi’s jaw tightened. “He probably would have thrown her in the garbage.”
“Bastard,” George muttered. The man had raped Emi over and over, gotten her pregnant and would have thrown her child away. What kind of sick, twisted man did that?
“After Sara was born,” Emi continued. “I couldn’t escape. It was hard enough when it was just me. I couldn’t leave without Sara. Fallon knew it and threatened her whenever he thought I needed a reminder of who was in charge.”
“He’s your daughter’s biological father, then,” George stated, though his back teeth ground together at the thought of Fallon raping her. “Does he have a legal hold on Sara?”
Emi snorted softly. “He’s her biological father, but he doesn’t care about her. Never has. He only used her to keep me in line. I don’t think he wants anyone outside the compound to know about me or Sara.
“You asked what he was to me.” Emi let go of his hand. Her fingers curled around the sheet and blanket, pulling them up to her chin. “He was my captor, tormentor and torturer.”
George’s fists and chest tightened. The haunted expression on her face gutted him. “How long did he have you at the compound? Was it the only place he kept you?”
“I was there all eight years,” she said. “The only good that came of my time in his control was Sara.” Her face softened. “She gave me a reason to live.”
George squeezed her hand gently. “We’ll get her out.”
Her hand tightened around his. “I have to. She’s only three. Her life is just beginning.”
“I know you don’t want anyone to know you’re alive, but my team can be trusted. Every man has a top-secret clearance. They know how to keep secrets.”
She was already shaking her head. “No one can know. Sara’s life depends on it.”
“We have a computer guru at our disposal. The man is good at finding things on the internet. He can hack into databases with satellite images. If you give me enough information, a description of the compound, anything...he might be able to tap into the satellite images and locate the compound.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know. It’s risky.”
George leaned forward. “You don’t know where it is. How are you going to find the compound on your own?”
Emi chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t know.” She sighed. “I stayed alive so that I could save my daughter from that bastard. Yet, it all seems so hopeless.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“We can start by looking into Fallon Vance. Properties are usually recorded in the buyer’s name. If he purchased the property where the compound is located, we can find that information.”
“What if it’s not in his name?” Emi asked, another tear slipping from the corner of her eye.
“We’ll find him another way.” George reached out and brushed the moisture from her cheek. “Tell me everything you know. After eight years in that compound, you know more than you think. I have an approximate set of coordinates where I found you in the ocean. Based on that location, the currents, how long you were on the yacht and in the water, my computer guy might even figure out where the yacht came from.”
“He can do that?” Emi asked.
“It’s possible.” George shrugged. “It had to be one of the Hawaiian Islands. Once we narrow it down to which island, my guy could focus his satellite image search on that island. Using any descriptions you can come up with, he could have that location sooner than you running around with no clue.”
She met and held his gaze. “Your team would be careful not to alert Fallon that he’s being investigated?”
“They would be extremely careful,” George said. “Let them help. Let me help free Sara.”
For a long moment, Emi stared into George’s eyes. “Okay,” she finally said. “Thank you.”
He felt the weight of her decision on his shoulders.
He prayed he could deliver on his promise to bring Sara out alive.